assumption is cursed with a poor reputation,
turning scholars into fools,
fools into walking lampshades.
i've seduced the bullet, bitten hard,
and wrapped myself in self destruction.
so many buttons go untouched, and the world
keeps spinning like mine isn't slowly ending.
sanity is swapped for
"let's just keep you comfortable"
and i'm walking, frozen, with
rings around my eyes and courage
dribbling down my chin, unable to digest.
one too many of anything creates the recipe for
losing your laugh and throbbing for
one drink too many, one too many shared drags,
one shared glance too many, another
cheap shot to the ribs too many. another girl?
too many.
one step too far and words turn into mouths turn
into hips grinding thighs, turns into
the shake in your hands and the dodged eyes
when you fess up to the hips you
actually love.
those jagged huesos with adrogynous eyes
are deteriorating,
powdering into the air, and you're stuck watching
the process under a sadist's fist. your words mean
and go unread whlie he burns his flesh
and dives for thighs and
you sit crooked, five am,
reading idioms and cursing your palm's
lying lines.

i'm at my wit's end here.